


baby bend over (flex it)

by joshllyman



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-06
Updated: 2019-11-06
Packaged: 2021-01-23 22:34:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21327775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joshllyman/pseuds/joshllyman
Summary: Bokuto gets distracted as Kuroo takes his goddamn time getting up from the bench. He fidgets with his nails, checks out his own ass in the mirror (these new leggings make it look spectacular), looks up at the door when it opens—And in walks the most beautiful human Bokuto’s ever seen.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Kuroo Tetsurou/Tsukishima Kei
Comments: 14
Kudos: 262





	baby bend over (flex it)

“I swear to fuck, Kuroo, I hate you so much right now.”

Kuroo grins up at him from where he’s laying on his back, bench pressing weights above his head, having dragged Bokuto to the gym  _ before _ their eight o’clock statistics class. “You don’t hate me. And you’re enjoying the view, don’t give me that shit.”

Bokuto grumbles. Kuroo’s not wrong.

“You’re buying me coffee after this,” Bokuto says. “Like, a very very large coffee.”

“We won’t have time to get coffee and see Kei at the library before we go to class.”

“Bro.” Bokuto shakes his head. “You fucking saw Tsukki last night.”

Kuroo sets the weight back on the bars and takes a deep breath. “Yeah, so?”

Bokuto glares at him. “You’re over the moon, dude.”

Kuroo at least blushes at this. “Shut the hell up, man, it’s not like you get it.”

“Yeah, whatever. Come on, if we’re gonna go see your boyfriend we need to get going.”

“He’s not—fine.”

Bokuto gets distracted as Kuroo takes his goddamn time getting up from the bench. He fidgets with his nails, checks out his own ass in the mirror (these new leggings make it look spectacular), looks up at the door when it opens—

And in walks the most beautiful human Bokuto’s ever seen.

He’s tall, slender, has messy brown hair, and walks with the most grace and poise Bokuto has ever seen a real person possess. He’s carrying a yoga mat under one arm, and Bokuto watches him all the way from the door to the classroom in the back of the gym.

“Earth to Bokuto,” Kuroo says, flicking Bokuto on the nose. Somehow when Bokuto had been entranced by the yoga guy Kuroo had stood and is now very much in Bokuto’s personal space. Bokuto blinks and turns to stare at Kuroo. 

“Bro,” Bokuto says, his voice full of reverence. “Did you see that guy?”

“I did,” Kuroo confirms, “but I think not as much as you saw that guy. He’s hot.”   
“He’s beautiful,” Bokuto corrects, blinking once. “He’s breathtaking.”   
Kuroo raises an eyebrow. “Sometimes I manage to forget how gay you are, and I’m not sure how that’s possible in moments like these.”

“Kuroo, I gotta go meet him.”

“How are you gonna do that? He was headed for a class.”

“I’m gonna go do the class, obviously.”

“You  _ have _ class, idiot.”

“You’ll cover for me, right?”

“Bro,” Kuroo says. “You’re gonna skip class to go chase after some dude?”

“He’s not some dude, bro, he’s an angel. An actual angel, who does yoga.”

“You don’t have a mat.”

“I’ll figure it out.”

“Have you ever even done yoga?”

Bokuto shrugs. “I’ll figure it out. It can’t be that hard.”

Kuroo scoffs at him. “Man, more power to you, I guess. I don’t know whether to wish you luck or not.”

“I don’t need luck,” Bokuto replies. He stands up a little straighter. “I have the power of God and sweaty gym shorts on my side.”

“That’s disgusting, Bo.”

“Whatever, man. Give Tsukki a kiss from me.”

“I will absolutely not do that, but thanks.”

Kuroo offers a fist bump, but Bokuto grabs him by the waist and hugs him instead. Kuroo pretends to hate it but Bokuto knows he’s secretly pleased. He waves as he heads out, and Bokuto turns toward the back of the gym and takes a deep breath.

“Alright, Yoga Angel,” he says, entirely to himself. “Let’s go.”

He strides confidently into the classroom, head held high, and almost immediately shrinks back into himself.

Yoga Angel is the teacher.

“Are you here for advanced yoga?” he asks. His voice is soft, each word spoken deliberately. Bokuto nearly chokes.

“Yes,” Bokuto says, because it’s far too late to back out now. “Yes, that is what I’m here for.”

“You’re a new student,” observes Yoga Angel.

“I am,” Bokuto agrees. He really wishes he could form a whole sentence right now but his brain is short circuiting so hard he can barely remember his own name. “Bokuto.”

Yoga Angel tilts his head to the side. “Bokuto?”

“Is my name,” says Bokuto, and he’s hitting himself mentally. He’s so, so glad Kuroo isn’t here to see the disaster he’s making of himself. “Bokuto Koutarou.”

“Ah.” Yoga Angel holds out a hand. “Akaashi Keiji. It’s nice to meet you, Bokuto-san.”

“You too, Akaashi-sensei. Very nice.”

Yoga Angel—Akaashi—still looks confused, but the look is so breathtaking on him that Bokuto hardly notices. “Do you have a mat, Bokuto-san?”

Bokuto blinks and blinks and blinks. “No.”

“You came for a yoga class without a mat?”

“I—forgot it.”

Akaashi offers him a gentle smile. “You look sleepy, Bokuto-san, so I can forgive you this time. I have a spare you can use.”

Bokuto’s going to die in this stinky gym classroom and there’s going to be no one to tell his story. “Thank you very much, Akaashi-sensei, I appreciate it.”

Akaashi unpacks a mat from his bag and offers it to Bokuto, who sets it up on the far side of the classroom, where he’ll have an uninterrupted view of Akaashi and not have to be too close to the other students. Akaashi goes around and speaks with each of the other students as they filter in, giving Bokuto the opportunity to observe him. He’s just as soft spoken with everyone as he was with Bokuto, so it must just be his nature. He frequently reaches out and touches whomever he’s speaking with, and it’s gentle and intimate and fuck, does Bokuto want to be on the receiving end of it. Akaashi must not like him, he realizes suddenly, because he wasn’t on the receiving end of any sort of touch. 

Stupid, Bokuto chides. Akaashi just doesn’t know him yet. 

Everyone else seems to be on their mats and ready to go, so Bokuto follows suit. Akaashi goes to his own mat and faces them.

“Good morning, everyone,” he says, voice still so quiet, just barely audible above the noise of the gym. “Thank you for joining in our practice today. We’ll start by doing some sun salutations. If you would, please, tuck your toes under your feet and stand, slowly working your way to the top of the mat.”

Bokuto scrambles up to the top of his mat, trying and failing to follow Akaashi’s lead. The woman next to him, a skinny blonde, glares at him, and he grimaces.

“Inhale,” Akaashi says, “arms above your head, forward fold.”

Bokuto freezes; Akaashi reaches above his head (a sliver of his hip sticks out and Bokuto admits to an impure thought) and then folds himself all the way over with a flat back.

“Lift halfway,” Akaashi says, and Bokuto has no idea what that means but everyone else seems to. He watches as everyone else bends halfway and touches their forearms to their shins, and he tries to follow but--fuck, his hamstrings are tight. He hisses and gets the blonde’s attention again.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, his face red.

She huffs.

“Hands above your head, pull down to heart center,” Akaashi directs.

Bokuto can do the first part easily enough, and does so, and then watches Akaashi’s (beautiful, slender) hands come together in the center of his chest, and Bokuto mimics him. 

“We’ll do that a few more times to get ourselves warmed up,” Akaashi says, and everyone else just  _ does it  _ like they know exactly what Akaashi’s going to say and aren’t hanging on to his every word like Bokuto is. Bokuto timidly repeats his motion, and he thinks at some point he catches Akaashi’s eye and Akaashi smiles at him and there’s just no reason for his heart to beat so fucking fast but it does.

“Next time you fold, plant your palms, walk it back,” Akaashi says, and Bokuto has to hesitate again, watching the others as they walk their feet back toward the back of the mat. Akaashi hovers above his mat, his hands and toes the only things holding him up, and Bokuto notices for the first time the definition in his arms.

And then he notices he’s the only person standing, and quickly tries to join them in whatever the hell is going on.

“Continue,” Akaashi says, standing, and the others keep going even as Bokuto tries to hide his face in the mat. Akaashi comes over and kneels in front of his mat, his back angled slightly away from the other students. “You know,” he says quietly. “If you ever aren’t sure of a pose, or you can’t do it, you can always bring yourself into child’s pose.”

“Right,” Bokuto says. He manages a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Of course. Thank you, sensei.”

Akaashi nods to him and offers him a slight smile before returning to his mat.

Bokuto has no fucking idea what child’s pose is.

The rest of the practice goes like this: Akaashi will give a direction, everyone else will just do it, and Bokuto will end up looking like an idiot as he tries to figure out what’s going on. It turns out sun salutations were just a warm up and were, in fact, one of the easiest things they’d do during the entire class. Bokuto is lost, hopelessly lost, and also hopelessly head over heels for Akaashi by the time 8:50 rolls around.

“We’ll be ending our practice shortly,” Akaashi says, and Bokuto thinks  _ thank fucking god.  _ “Please join me in savasana.”   
Bokuto hesitates for half a moment, watching as the other students begin to lower themselves to their mats. Bokuto scrambles downward and follows them as Akaashi speaks again.

“Lay flat on your back on your mat. Feel every point of contact between yourself and the ground. Let the ground take you in.”

Akaashi’s voice washes over Bokuto. He thinks absently that Akaashi would be excellent at those videos of people talking quietly on the Internet. He’s got down the tone and the volume and everything. Bokuto thinks he’s saying something about being aware of his breathing, but he’s so tired. Kuroo had made him get up so early to come to the gym. He’s spent the last hour completely out of his element. He’ll just close his eyes for a moment.

When Bokuto’s eyes open, Akaashi is directly in front of his face.

Bokuto bolts upright, sitting and reconfiguring the world around him. There’s no one else left in the classroom. Akaashi is, in fact, upside down, doing a headstand at the end of Bokuto’s mat, his legs folded together in the air like he’s sitting criss-cross. Bokuto’s breath catches in his throat.

“Did you have a nice nap, Bokuto-san?” Akaashi asks, and there’s a tone of quiet laughter to his voice. Bokuto goes red.

“I’m sorry, Akaashi-sensei,” he says. “My friend dragged me to the gym early this morning and he was supposed to buy me coffee but he wanted to see his boyfriend and then I saw you and you were so beautiful and I had to find out your name, at least, and—oh, shit.”

Bokuto buries his head in his hands.

“I’ve never done yoga in my life,” he finishes, going ahead and putting the final nail in his coffin.

When Bokuto dares to peek through his fingers, he finds that Akaashi is wearing a faint—but amused—smile. 

“That much was obvious, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi replies. He eases himself down out of his headstand and rights himself, stretching his legs out long in front of him and reaching down to easily grab his toes, just centimeters from where Bokuto’s legs are crossed. “I think perhaps you should have started with an easier class.”   
Bokuto nods. “In retrospect, probably the right course of action, yeah.”

Akaashi blinks. “I have a beginner’s class Thursday nights at seven, if you’d like to come.”

Bokuto grimaces at the thought of putting himself through another hour of torture, both physical and mental. “Maybe,” he says, noncommittally.

“Or,” Akaashi says, and there’s a light in his eyes that wasn’t there before, “we could have dinner Thursday night at eight fifteen.”

Bokuto blinks and blinks and blinks and tries to figure out if he’s heard Akaashi correctly. “Dinner?”

“It’s a much more traditional first date than a yoga class.”

Bokuto shakes his head, because he thought he just heard Akaashi say the word— “Date?”

Akaashi reaches out just a little further and touches his hand to Bokuto’s cheek. “Perhaps by Thursday you’ll have figured it out. Meet me here after my class.” He takes Bokuto’s hand, hesitates for a moment, then brings it up to his lips and kisses his knuckles. “I’ll see you then, Bokuto-san.”

And before Bokuto can recover any of his faculties, Akaashi stands and walks out of the classroom, offering a small wave to Bokuto as he goes.

Bokuto lays down on his back and promptly dies.

(Sometime later, when he manages to get up off the floor, retrieve his phone from his locker, and send Kuroo a text, it reads  _ He’s literally an angel, Kuroo. I’m in love _ ).

**Author's Note:**

> started this two months ago, finally finished it, hey  
title from "yoga" by janelle monae  
thanks forever to lu, becca, and sam  
i did a bad job describing sun salutations (bokuto wasn't really listening) but they're nice and a good morning thing to wake up to


End file.
